


Why Trumpets are so Protective of Valve Oil

by marvelsuperwholockian



Series: Why Trumpets are so Protective of Valve Oil [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Band Fic, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Genderswap, High School Castiel/Dean Winchester, Marching Band, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Questing- kinda, Saxophonist!Sam, Trumpetist!Dean, Trumpetist!Lucifer, Tubist!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelsuperwholockian/pseuds/marvelsuperwholockian
Summary: It’s the night of the homecoming football game. The band has been practicing this show for months. The band room is a mess of uniforms, people, and instruments. Everyone is getting ready... except for Castielle. She’s sitting on a table watching Deanna rage around the room trying to find valve oil and trying very hard not to laugh.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Why Trumpets are so Protective of Valve Oil [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569769
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Why Trumpets are so Protective of Valve Oil

The Blue Juice was gone, and disaster had struck. Deanna had searched her locker from top to bottom, and there was no sign of the Blue Juice or whoever had stolen it. She stormed around the band room looking for any sign of the coveted valve oil, searching in the music cabinet, on the windowsills, around the director’s podium, but it was like it had disappeared into thin air. 

I was on the opposite side of the room sitting on top of the little card table that was usually covered in papers and music, but today it was magically clear of any and all obstructions to me and my socially awkward disaster. I should probably be getting my tuba out, but watching Deanna run around like a chicken with its head cut off was too funny to pass up. Deanna was normally a calm and collected person, but currently she was searching the room with a fury that had previously been unknown to band. 

Finally, Deanna calmed down and I deemed it time to get my sousaphone out. Mr. Crowley had stepped on the podium and I snuck over to the storage room to uncase my instrument. I had to be fast before he called for the tuning pitch or noticed the distinct lack of Sousa while the band warmed up. I had just opened the case when Crowley started talking. A streak of panic shot through me; Was he counting off the warm-up? I listened carefully.

“We have to go out to the field at… ” That was all I needed to hear. I still had time. Quickly, I pulled the sousaphone out of the case and snatched my mouthpiece from the little space in the corner of my case. Casually walking out of the instrument storage room, I made the short walk over to the stand I had set up before I had been distracted by Deanna’s rampage for valve oil. 

Glancing over to the trumpet section, I noticed that Deanna’s second valve button was pressed down to the rim of felt on top of the valve. She was struggling to pull it up, but her efforts seemed to be in vain. I finally realized that the valve was stuck and we were heading out to the field in… I looked over at the clock, sixty short minutes. It was the homecoming game tonight and we were doing our marching show and Deanna had a solo at the very beginning of our first song. 

Crowley called for the tuning pitch, and I put the mouthpiece to my lips. A few eighth graders shot some weird looks my way; I was used to it at this point, not many girls play the tuba. The band joined in as soon as I had played b-flat for a few beats, except for Deanna. Crowley called on the trumpet section to individually tune, and Deanna immediately raised her hand, taking advantage of Crowley’s attention on her section to point out her horrendously stuck valve. 

“Does anyone have valve oil?” Crowley said. I almost laughed, but managed to keep myself composed in a rare moment of self-control. Every single brass player relied on Deanna for valve oil, and I knew that there was no valve oil in the director’s desk or podium, only spare reeds and cork grease. He had the kind of tough love mentality toward the brass where he expected us to provide for ourselves. Every face that Crowley’s judgemental eyes alighted upon turned away in shame. 

“When was the last time you saw your valve oil?” Crowley addressed Deanna, gauging whether it was lost because of her carelessness or if there truly was a Blue Juice thief. 

“It was in her case during band today,” I said before Deanna could even open her mouth. “I asked her if I could use it when one of my valves stuck.” To be honest, my valve hadn’t actually been stuck, but that doesn’t matter right now. 

Crowley’s attention turned on me, “So you were the last one to use it, then,” he stated, leaving no room for argument.

“Most likely,” I replied, not giving him the straight answer he wanted.

Crowley sighed, most likely in exasperation, and asked Deanna, “Did anyone else use your valve oil?” 

“No,” she responded with a shrug.

Crowley smirks, which means that he’s about to do something funny or something catastrophic. Catastrophe is more likely at this point and it’s probably going to be directed towards Deanna and me, so I prepare for the worst. 

“Well then, we must arrange a quest for the Blue Juice,” Crowley declares with an air of regality. I was so surprised I flinched, and nearly dropped the Sousa as a result. 

“The quest leader shall be Deanna, and she shall choose two other companions to retrieve the treasure,” Crowley continued, and you could hear the smile behind his words. I was beginning to think that he had finally cracked from the craziness of high school band, but judging from peoples’ reactions, it was safe to laugh.

“Deanna, come forward and declare the names of our companions,” Crowley continued. Deanna hesitantly stood up and walked toward the podium, shoulders tense and brow crinkled in confusion. She stood next to Crowley and looked around the room, probably wondering who she should pick.

“Sam and Cas, I guess,” she muttered, almost unintelligibly. Everything about this was confusing, so hearing Deanna call my name for the ‘quest’ wasn’t nearly as shocking as it should be.

“Samantha Winchester and Castielle Novak, come attend to your quest leader,” Crowley proceeded to announce. I looked over to the saxophone section. Samantha and I exchanged a glance and stood in unison. I laid my Sousa down quickly, risking push-ups, but luckily not hitting it on anything. 

“By decree of the king,” Crowley announced, “That’s me if anyone was wondering. You shall search this school for the treasured Blue Juice, whoever took it, and some spare reeds. Our success tonight depends on the success of this quest, so to fail would result in disaster for everyone. Should you return triumphant, bring the criminal guilty of this offense and the spoils of your quest to me,” he finished with a flourish.

Deanna walked over to one of the practice rooms and gestured for us to follow. I walked into the room and leaned against the wall, looking at Deanna, wondering what she was going to do about this ridiculous disaster. 

“At this point, I have absolutely no clue what to do, so… any suggestions?” She looked around the room as if we knew what we were doing.

“Did you check for a ransom note?” I said this jokingly, expecting her to dismiss my ridiculous suggestion immediately. Sam snorts derisively, giving the expected reaction, but Deanna nodded, freaking nodded, then walked out of the practice room and reappeared in the doorway with her trumpet and its case. 

“I didn’t notice anything when I got my trumpet out, but I was in a rush, so…” She handed me her case, “Would you do the honors?”

I undid the latches and opened the lid. Nothing looked out of the ordinary at first, but she had one of the weird cases that had a covered compartment underneath where you would place the trumpet. I lifted the lid of the compartment, and scrunched in the corner, was a scrap of paper. I picked it up and unfolded it. The handwriting was nearly unintelligible, and vaguely familiar, so if the thief were someone in the band, it narrowed it down, but not by much.

“What does it say?” Deanna asked. I could hear the worry in her voice. 

“Ummm…” I turn sharply to Sam, “You’re better at reading bad handwriting than I am” Sam looks at me like, ‘are you serious?’ but takes the note.

“It says,” she looked pointedly at me, “I have taken your precious Blue Juice, and I’m going to destroy it if you can’t find me before you perform at the halftime show. Come and catch me if you can!”

“That’s…” I hesitated.

“Try malevolent, evil, corrupt, heinous, malicious, villainous, or just flat out wicked!” Deanna’s voice rose in volume and intensity with each word, her face starting to turn red.

“I was going to say intense, but those work too,” You could hear the smirk behind my words, but I couldn’t help it. Deanna gave me a weird look, half smile, half scowl. I matched her gaze with my own.

“Let’s try and figure out who wrote the note, okay?” Samantha interrupted before the tension became unbearable. 

“Alright. How many people could have had access to your case in the past fiveish hours?” I looked back over at Deanna.

“You, me, Sam, and… maybe Lucille,”

“Lucille,” Sam and I stated, a look of disbelief plastered on our faces.

“Yeah. Luci likes to play pranks on us, but sometimes she has a hard time distinguishing how far is too far,”

“I would know, she’s my sister, but are we sure it wasn’t Gabrielle? Their handwriting is pretty similar, now that I think about it,” 

“Gabby’s handwriting is loopier. Whoever wrote this, most likely Luci, has more of an edge to theirs,” Sam commented. I looked over at her, mildly confused as to why she knew that, but Sam held an amazing poker face.

“Let’s go find Luci then,” Deanna declared, walking out of the cramped practice room, leaving her case and trumpet behind. Sam and I rose and followed behind.

Luci played trumpet like Deanna, but she was perpetually stuck playing second part because Gabby and Deanna have been outplaying her since her freshman year. This would be the perfect way to get revenge, and it matched Luci’s mildly sadistic personality. When Gabby and I had left to meet call time, Luci had called down from her room that she would come along later because she was working on something. Last I checked, Luci hadn’t gotten here yet, so our best bet was to go to my house. I voiced my suggestion to our little group, and Deanna agreed.

We walked out to the student parking lot, me in the lead. I led them over to my car, which was in decent condition for a high school student’s. I reached for my keys, when Deanna placed a firm hand on my arm. I looked over at her in confusion.

“We’re gonna take Baby to your house,” she nodded toward the classic car parked next to mine. Sam was already in the passenger seat. Deanna walked over to the drivers’ side and I followed. The doors opened with a creak and I slid into the backseat. The key turned in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. Deanna pulled out of the parking lot and turned towards my house.

“Quick question, how do you know where I live?” I leaned towards the front seat, the leather creaking underneath me. 

“I’ve driven Sammy to your house to pick up Gabby for some girls’ nights a few times,” Deanna explained. I can see a blush creeping up Sam’s neck as Deanna speaks.  
We arrive at my house and Deanna pulls into the driveway. Sam and Deanna exit the car in unison, and I walk up to my door and into the house. I call for Luci, but the house is empty. The rest of the family must have gone out for the night. I run up the stairs, Deanna and Sam right behind me and call for Luci again, louder this time. As I slam open Luci’s door, I realize that I probably shouldn’t have called for her. She’s been known to find ridiculous ways to avoid mad siblings.

Luci’s window is open. I rush over and look out, and there she is, sitting on the hood of Deannna’s car, looking up to the window with a smug look on her face.

“Seriously Luci?” I shout. “How did you even…” I trail off as she stands up and walks over to the decorative trellis on the front of the house. She starts climbing up, and I back away from the window, pulling Deanna with me. Luci almost silently enters the room in a practiced move, standing up right in front of me.

“Well, congratulations. You’ve found me.” Luci stated sarcastically, “But have you found the Blue Juice?”

“Where did you put it?” Deanna practically exploded in her face.

She checked her watch. “That’s what you have to figure out in… approximately twenty five minutes,” She handed Sam a paper, winked, then climbed back out the window. “That’s all the help you’re going to get,”

“What does it say?” Deanna leaned over as Sam unfolded the note.

“It’s gibberish,” Sam said, looking at me questioningly. 

“Luci had a phase where she would only write in code, it gave us all a headache until I cracked the cipher she used. Come on, I think I still have the key laying around somewhere,” I gestured for them to follow me, then walked down the hall toward my room. 

It was smaller than Gabby’s or Luci’s, but I liked it. I had a trundle bed over in the corner, with some drawers in it. I opened one of them and rifled through a few notebooks, until I came across a page that was covered in scribbles and the jumble of letters that made up Luci’s cipher. I took the scrap of paper from Sam and grabbed a piece of notebook paper from the stack on my desk. 

“Make yourselves comfortable, this is going to take a few minutes,” I said while decoding the first word. Sam flopped on my bed and Deanna pulled up the only other chair in my room to help. 

“I am your best friend during sorrows and happiness, and when you are alone you spend your time with me. P.S. The answer rhymes with tree,” I say, almost laughing. “Did she seriously hide the Blue Juice at the library?”

“Well, let’s go!” Deanna practically leaps out of her chair and heads for the door. “We only have fifteen minutes to get there and get back to school!”

Deanna pretty much drifts into the parking lot of the library, parks, then calmly walks up to the door and holds it open. Sam and I get out of the car and start to walk up to the door, looking at her like she’s crazy. 

“I may be obsessed about getting the Blue Juice back, but I still obey library etiquette. Now, walk faster before I drag your sorry butts into the library,” Deanna explains. Sam and I immediately speed walk over to the door and into the library before Deanna made good on that threat.

I scanned the library, but I didn’t see Luci anywhere, so chances are she flat out hid the Blue Juice somewhere in the thousands of books shelved here. _What section would she hide it in?_

“Cryptids. Check the cryptids and mythology section,” I said, walking in the general direction of the children’s nonfiction.

“Okay, but why?” came the response from Sam.

“Luci really likes mythology and stuff like that. It’s my best guess,” I explained, searching through the books. 

“We could just call her though,” I added as an afterthought. I pulled out my phone and tapped on Luci’s contact info, then held it up to my ear.

“Having trouble?” Luci cackled.

“We’re at the library. Where is the Blue Juice?” 

“Where history isn’t real,” Luci singsonged. 

“What does that even mean?” I said, then realised that she had hung up.

I directed my attention back to Deanna and Sam, “Apparently it’s hidden where history isn’t real,” I said, mocking the way Luci had said it. 

“Historical fiction,” Sam said, then elaborated after seeing our confused looks, “It’s kind of self-explanatory. History would be biographies and stuff, but things that aren’t real are fiction, so historical fiction,” She said and walked over to the historical fiction books.

“Now then, maybe there’s a misshelved book or something, but chances are we’re just going to have to look around this area,” Sam continued, checking the labels on the books’ spines. Deanna was checking behind the books, and I checked the displays on and around the shelves. 

“Found something!” Sam lifted up a biography, “Nonfiction in the fiction section. Definitely a misshelved book,” she flipped through the pages, then found a scrap of paper jammed in the pages.

“Yet another clue and ten minutes to find the blue juice,” you could hear the worry starting to creep into Deanna’s voice. 

“It just says that we should go back to the high school,” Sam said, then started walking to the library doors. “Chances are we’ll meet up with Luci there and we’ll get the Blue Juice back,”

The drive back was tense and silent. Deanna’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel and my leg was bouncing like a spring. Sam was leaning back in her chair and listening to Coldplay or something on full blast, looking completely relaxed.

“How,” I stated.

“How what?” Deanna replied, looking at me in the rearview mirror. 

I nodded in Sam’s direction, trying to convey my message to Deanna.

“Oh,” Deanna mouthed, then elbowed Sam in the gut.

“Dude, what the heck?” Sam curled around herself and shouted.

“How are you so relaxed?” Deanna and I questioned her in unison.

“Because Luci clearly has had the valve oil with her the entire time, and we’re going to where she is and we’re going to confront her about it. The note didn’t actually say to go to the high school, by the way. It was going to continue leading us on a wild goose chase until you missed your solo and Luci took it over,” Sam ranted. “She probably did something to incapacitate Gabby too,” She added, a hint of worry in her voice.

“Seriously? You’re absolutely sure that Luci has the valve oil,” Deanna pulled over and started to freak out a bit.

“Why else would she send us around town, searching after the Blue Juice with some half thought through clues that even you could figure out if you weren’t under so much stress?” I was beginning to see Sam’s point. The clues had been pretty simple and the code wasn’t that hard to crack when I had first done it. 

“Let’s just follow Sam and confront Luci. Worst case scenario, you borrow the flugelhorn or something for the show,” I said. “At least you will be there,”

“Yeah,” Deanna said. She started the car again and started towards the high school.

Back in the band room, we hurriedly get into uniform, grab our instruments and jackets and run out to the field. Luci is standing in Deanna’s spot nearest the field with Gabby nowhere in sight. The Blue Juice is sitting on her stand, out in the open, like she’s daring anyone to tell Crowley that she has it. Deanna storms over and swipes it off the stand and glares at Luci while oiling her second valve and nursing it back to health. 

“I _will_ play my solo,” Deanna says with so much venom I think she melted a few freshmen’s faces off. 

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Sam shouts, “And where is Gabby?”

Luci has the decency to look ashamed. “I just wanted a chance to have my name announced instead of yours. Ever since our freshman year, you have outplayed me in every way, shape, and form, but I am still capable of playing what you play,” Luci raged. “This is our last year in band, and I want a chance to be the one everyone looks up to. I practiced the solo until I couldn’t play anymore, every day after school for _weeks_!” Luci looked like she was going to continue, but Deanna interrupted.

“Maybe we could share the solo. I mean, there is another part in the song where it’s repeated, so I could play one and you could play the other,” Deanna was hesitant, and looked at Luci questioningly. “I guess I could talk to Gabby about you and her switching out on the first part sometimes, too. I didn’t realise that you felt this way, or I would have found another way for us to play. I’m sorry,” Deanna apologised. 

“That sounds… good,” Luci agreed. “I accept your apology. Also,” She said, and turned to Sam, “Gabby is locked in the bathroom at the concessions stand,”

“No she isn’t,” came a voice from behind me. We all turned around. “I’m right here, no thanks to you,” Gabby said looking pointedly at Luci. “I heard the entire conversation, and I agree with Deanna. We should all find a way to include Luci so she can play first part,”

“Well then,” I said. “Now that all of this is resolved, we better get ready to play the fight song because Charlie’s about to count it off!” We all rushed to turn to the right page and hold our instruments up. _This is what marching band is about,_ I thought as we laughed together about tonight’s escapades. I definitely won’t forget the night the Blue Juice went missing.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for a short story assignment in English. I’m planning on rewriting it and adding more works after this, so if you like it, stay tuned. 
> 
> Also, I thrive off of comments, so even a 'good job' will make my day 100x better


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